


Deviance

by shadowblade_tara



Series: Deviance [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Deviant Connor, During Game, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of alcoholism, and comes up with this, basically the author asks what if connor was a deviant all along, follows the author's game play, if it's in the game, it's in this fic, slight deviation from cannon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21607111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowblade_tara/pseuds/shadowblade_tara
Summary: There’s something different about Connor, the android sent by Cyberlife.  Hank’s known it from the beginning.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson/Connor
Series: Deviance [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557268
Comments: 6
Kudos: 227





	Deviance

**COIN**

There’s something different about Connor, the android sent by Cyberlife. Hank’s known it from the beginning.

It’s the small things. The gentle yet blunt way the android seems to handle him, not provoking (normally) but not taking his shit, either. That hint of understanding that hides quickly behind cool professionalism and a customer service smile. The way he casually defies orders when it suits him.

The fact that Hank thinks of _it_ as _he._

He can’t seem to fix that, no matter how hard he tries.

It’s just a piece of plastic. _Isn’t he?_

Connor has explanations for most of those little tics. Not for the damned coin, though.

Hank waits for his lunch at the food truck, hands tucked firmly in his jacket while he watches Connor sit in the car. That coin keeps spinning around his fingers, sometimes tossed back and forth, sometimes flipped into the air and caught again. It’s absolutely baffling. Hank originally thought it was some kind of calibration program, given that his expression never changes the entire time, but Connor does it far too often for that. Something as high-tech as he is shouldn’t be running an almost constant calibration. 

There’s a pattern in the movements. Sort of a rhythm.

No – not sort of. Now that he’s thought it, he can _see it_ – he can see the beat the coin is playing out. In fact, he _recognizes_ the beat. It’s the same song he has queued up to play on his headphones on his desk. Connor must have taken a listen to learn more about his new human partner. 

Which answers one question and raises a whole host of others. Namely, why the hell is an android making a coin dance to a very specific song? A song Hank knows? The one beat Hank is most likely to recognize. A method of endearing himself to Hank, something dictated to him by his social programming?

Assuming it is programming.

Hank has a theory. He’s had it since Connor bought him a drink at the bar. Now it’s time to test the theory. 

But how? Is Connor afraid that Hank will turn him in? Hank isn’t that much of an asshole. Not that the android would know that, with the anti-android stickers he has on his desk. He grimaces a little at that, but quickly shakes the thought aside.

Assuming the coin thing is a message, assuming Connor has his reasons that he can’t voice the message itself, how does Hank test that? How does Hank show him that the message has been received?

Actually . . . . 

Hank pays for his meal and gets back in the car. Connor barely glances at him, still staring out the window, the coin still dancing.

“Not eating at the table?” the android asks.

“Nope. Don’t feel like freezing my balls off today.” Hank says flippantly. 

“The ambient air temperature is hardly different than it was yesterday.” Connor comments idly, still messing with the damn coin. “I doubt you would _freeze your balls off_ today if you didn’t then.”

Instead of answering that, Hank reaches over to the radio and flicks it on. It’s not the same band, but the song still has a very strong, very distinctive beat. Very different from the song on his headphones.

For a moment, Connor freezes. The coin stops.

_One, two, three –_

The coin trick starts again. This time to the new beat.

Hank stares at him for a moment. Connor sits there, coin dancing, not looking directly at him but keeping him in his peripheral vision. Like he’s trying to see Hank’s response. Like he’s quietly asking _do you hear me, Lieutenant?_

Hank can’t help it. He huffs out a laugh and unwraps his burger.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” _Yeah, Connor. I hear you._

From the passenger seat, Connor smiles.

**FALLING**

It doesn’t take Hank long to realize Cyberlife must be watching their android somehow. His interactions with Connor become nothing but a series of codes, back and forth that sometimes barely mean anything to Hank but seem to be the world to Connor.

The funny part is, even when Hank doesn’t get the exact message, he does understand the intent. He always understands the intent.

He tries to body-check the deviant when it rushes him on the roof but misjudges the strength of a desperate android. He goes over the edge, clinging to the roof with everything he has. The fall probably won’t kill him – _probably_. He really doesn’t want to find out.

He doesn’t get the chance to try to haul himself back up. Strong hands grab him, bodily pulling him back up on the roof and taking a step back so he can regain himself.

What comes out of his mouth then isn’t printable. “We almost had it!”

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I should have been faster.”

But with the way Connor looks at him, Hank knows he’s not blaming himself for losing the deviant. 

**TRIGGER**

It’s a bad night, and Hank does what he always does on every bad night. He drinks, and he presses the gun to his temple.

Freezing cold water hitting him straight in the crotch is the first indication he has that the chamber was empty.

Well, damn.

Then he realizes Connor found him like that, and he groans even more, hates himself just a little more. No one should have seen him like that, least of all Connor.

The hell does he care, anyway. Connor’s just an android, after all.

_Isn’t he?_

But when he steps back into the living room, clean and dressed and more sober than he was, Connor simply stares at him with something that might be sympathy in his eyes.

Nothing is really said about it. But Hank doesn’t forget it.

**MERCY**

Eden Club is – interesting, Hank will give it that.

He’s never seen the point of places like this, even with human sex workers. A glance at Connor shows that he seems to be just as uncomfortable as Hank is, albeit more subtle about it. His gaze keeps getting caught by the androids standing in the tubes, like giant vending machines, and the LED will spin yellow each time. 

Hank wonders what kind of rhythm that coin would be keeping now.

Then all thoughts of anything other than the case are driven out of his head as they investigate the scene. Then Connor’s dragging him around, from android to android, seeking the blue-haired Traci with an almost single-minded determination, and Hank is almost reminded of a rookie cop determined to prove himself.

It might be endearing. Until they get jumped by _two_ Tracis, what the hell.

Connor pulls his gun but hesitates. Hank watches as the second Traci charges him, only to be stopped by her blue-haired companion.

Correction – her blue-haired lover.

Ah hell, this just keeps getting more and more complicated.

They simply stand there and watch as the two androids make their escape, Connor’s LED glowing yellow the entire time.

**TEST**

“What about you, Connor? What would happen if I pulled this trigger?”

The LED flickers to yellow for a brief moment before turning blue again. Connor shows no sign of fear – at least, not of Hank. And for some reason, that pisses Hank off. 

Drunk Hank has never made great decisions. Which is why he has a gun pointed at the kid’s head. 

“Nothing? Oblivion? Robot heaven?”

Connor just looks at him, considering.

“Are you afraid to die, Connor?”

Finally, a reaction. Something flickers across that face – pain, maybe? No, betrayal. This one message Hank can read loud and clear.

_I thought you knew me better, Lieutenant._

Hank’s heart clenches. The gun trembles. Connor opens his mouth to say something, but Hank lowers the gun before he can. 

For a very long moment, the two just stare at each other.

“I would regret the interruption of our partnership, Lieutenant.”

_I’m afraid. You know I am._

Hank sighs. “Well, that’s better than nothing, I guess.”

_I know, kid. I know._

**PRIORITY**

Hank isn’t certain what disturbs him most – the dead deviant in the hallway, the disturbingly blank look on Connor’s face as he hands the gun back to the cop next to him, or the blue Thirium that stains his uniform shirt and his hand.

Something happened when Hank wasn’t watching, and that _scares him_ more than he’s willing to admit.

Which is probably why, as the elevator begins to take them back down to the ground level, he flicks the emergency stop and brings them to a halt. The elevator goes dark and silent save for the dim glow of backup lights and Hank’s own breathing.

Connor’s attention snaps to him. “Lieutenant?”

“No one’s watching, Connor.” he says quietly. “I need you to be honest with me – okay?”

He watches as the kid’s gaze flickers between the two security cameras, possibly assessing if they’re really off-line. Finally, he nods. “I cannot be off-grid for too long.”

Hank nods. “Got it. How bad are you hurt?”

Connor glances down at himself, as if just recognizing the stains. “I’m not – not anymore.” he corrects before Hank has the chance to protest. “The damage looks worse than it could have been.”

“Could have been?”

The kid won’t look at him. “The deviant pulled out my pump and pinned my hand to the table. If I had been any slower getting it back, I would have deactivated.”

And that – that’s chilling. “Shit, Con, why didn’t you call for help?”

“I did. The shock of it all – I couldn’t get my voice loud enough. No one heard me.” Connor looks back up, making his face that careful customer-service neutral again. Hiding the fear and anxiety the entire situation caused. “Time’s up.”

With a snarled swear, Hank flicks the emergency stop off. The elevator powers back on and continues its slow trek down. After a few minutes silence, Hank pulls the quarter out of his pocket and tosses it back to Connor, who catches it easily.

It’s worth the headache to see that tiny smile show back up on his face.

**COMPASSION**

Hank’s had a bad feeling about Kamski from the beginning, and this only cements it. 

Kamski takes one of the Chloes and puts her on her knees, those blank eyes staring up at Connor impassively. Then he puts the gun in Connor’s hand and forces him to aim at Chloe’s head.

“What is more important to you? The mission, or the life of this android?” 

And Hank can’t breathe. The _look_ that crosses the kid’s face, even if only for a second – what will he do? How far is Connor willing to go to protect his cover?

Connor looks over at him, something like an apology in his eyes, and Hank opens his mouth to protest, to say anything to _stop him –_

And then Connor lowers the gun and hands it back to Kamski.

“Fascinating. Cyberlife’s last chance to save humanity is itself a deviant.”

And no matter Connor’s protest, Hank knows it’s true.

Still, as they leave, he asks the question he’s expected to. 

“Why didn’t you shoot?”

“I couldn’t.” Connor sounds so damned lost. “I saw that girl’s eyes, and I couldn’t.”

His language is changing, Hank notes distantly. _That girl_ instead of _the android._ He’s seen this before, too many times to count. People with strong moral guidelines do not do well in undercover situations, and Connor is _living_ that situation. 

And that look – 

Connor is _pleading_ with him, _begging_ him to understand something he barely has the language to explain himself. At this rate, Hank wonders how long it will be before Cyberlife figures it out.

He wonders what he will do if Cyberlife comes for his partner.

“Well, maybe you did the right thing.” 

_It’s okay. I’ve got your back._

**JERICHO**

“My orders are to take you alive, but I will shoot if necessary.”

Markus turns around at the voice. He’s been expecting something like this to happen, if he’s honest. He’s surprised he got this far without Cyberlife trying to assassinate him. Still, he runs a quick scan of this newcomer, trying to ascertain the best way to handle this situation. His scans land on the gun, and he freezes.

What.

Slowly, he smiles. “You know, most assassins have the safety off.” he says lightly. “You sure you’re not just looking for a new home?”

The new android – Connor, his scans provide, his name is Connor – smiles. He lowers the gun, finger off the trigger, barrel pointed to the side. Everything about his posture screams non-threatening, even if he is still armed. For a moment, his eyes turn blank, and Markus knows he’s destroying what little programming is left tethering him to Cyberlife. When he’s done, he focuses back in on Markus.

“Something like it. I needed to find you, but I fear they may have followed me. I can never tell how much of my actions are being recorded.”

Markus scowls. “That’s Cyberlife for you.”

At that moment, the sounds of helicopters overhead make both of them snap to attention. Connor swears rather violently. “They’re launching an attack.”

Markus will ask later who taught the young android that kind of language. Right now, they have a ship to evacuate.

**DOUBLE**

“Sorry, Connor – the bastard is your spitting image.” 

Connor freezes, hand on the android next to him, but gaze locked onto the chilling sight in front of him.

It’s another Connor, another RK800, gun pointed at Hank’s head.

Hank watches him as a myriad of plans are formed and discarded. It takes only a few seconds for him to act. “Go ahead and kill him. He means nothing to me.”

The fake-Connor scowls. “I know you have developed an attachment to him! You can’t bluff your way out of this one.” It presses the barrel of the gun against Hank’s temple, making the other man flinch. “What’s more important – your mission, or his life?”

And Hank knows. Connor couldn’t chose the mission over the life of an android he’d never met before. He’s not about to sacrifice Hank.

Hank wishes he would.

The short scuffle is enough to make him mix up who’s who. The one on the right is yelling at him, demanding that he shoot the one on the left, and the one on the left – 

Well, he’s not really looking at Hank. His gaze keeps flickering over to the other-Connor, even as he says, “Ask us something only your Connor would know.”

It becomes clear pretty quickly that information isn’t going to work. Both Connors seem to have the exact same set of data on Hank. Different tactic, then. He’s pretty sure – about 80%, if he’s honest – that he knows which is _his_ Connor. Still, that’s not enough certainty to shoot.

“What’s my son’s name?”

There it is – _pain_ crosses left-Connor’s face, pain and understanding and _why did you ask that I don’t want to hurt you_ , and Hank almost pulls the trigger then and there.

“Cole. His name was Cole. It wasn’t your fault, Lieutenant.”

Right-Connor steps forward. “I knew that, too – “

Hank shoots it in the head before it can finish.

For a long moment, both men look at the dead android. Finally, Connor turns his gaze back to Hank. Hank just smirks as he holsters his gun.

“My Connor?” he teases.

And Connor _grins_ , and it’s the best damn thing Hank has seen in years. “I thought it was appropriate.” he says easily.

Hank shakes his head. “Damned kid, gonna be the death of me yet.” he mutters, and Connor just smiles. Hank motions towards the other androids. “Go ahead, do what you gotta do. Markus is gonna need all the help he can get.”

**BACKUP**

The peaceful protest, combined with Markus leading his men in a damned _song_ of all things, had the army backing up already. The show of humanity was probably a bit much coming from a bunch of androids.

The massive army, led by Connor and Hank, drove them off the rest of the way.

Markus meets them halfway. “I’m impressed, Connor.” he says quietly. “I almost didn’t expect you to come back.”

From his left, Hank snorts. “Like I’d let anything happen to him.” The lieutenant eyes Markus critically. “You look like you’ve been shoved through a trash compactor.”

Connor elbows him. “I think you need social programming.”

That prompts a string of rather foul language from Hank, and Markus can’t help but laugh. At Hank’s sour look, he says simply, “I was wondering who taught Connor to swear.” Without waiting for a response, he climbs up on the nearest high surface so everyone can see him, North at his side, Josh and Simon to his left and behind, Hank and Connor in a similar position to his right.

Hank has to admit – Markus is pretty good at speeches.

Connor goes rigid beside him. Hank glances at him, then stares. His expression is completely blank, and for a few horrifying seconds, it reminds him so much of the fake-Connor he thinks he shot the wrong one.

His hand moves, slowly, so as not to draw attention, and Hank notices the gun.

Hank doesn’t think. If he took a second to think, he probably wouldn’t have done what he did. He might have tried something else, and that might not have worked.

He reaches out and grabs Connor’s wrist, applying just enough pressure to keep the gun behind his back.

And right as those blank eyes snap over to him, to see who’s attempting to stop him – 

Connor takes a shuddering breath, and he’s back again.

Hank casually takes the gun from him and slips it into his waistband. Connor doesn’t react. His eyes blank for just a second before he nods to himself and returns his attention to the speech.

Hank decides to ask later. Right now, the disaster has been avoided.

**HOME**

They sit on Hank’s porch, bundled up against the freezing cold, beers in hand. Connor doesn’t drink, but he holds it for lack of anything better to do with his hands. Hank isn’t drinking either, but at least his is open.

Connor breaks the silence first. 

“What were you doing at Cyberlife?”

Hank shrugs. “Figured no matter what happened at Jericho, Cyberlife would be your next step. You’d either be sneaking in for something or there to give yourself up, buy the others some time.” He flashes Connor a rueful smile. “When I saw the double, it took me a second to realize it wasn’t you.”

“And a second was all it needed.” Connor muses. “So you came to – help me?”

That earns him a dirty look. “Don’t sound so surprised – you’re my partner, aren’t you? I wasn’t about to let you just walk into danger _or_ toss your life aside without some backup.”

Connor smiles at that. “Thank you.”

“Always.” Hank finally takes a drink. “My turn – the hell was that earlier? At the speech?”

Connor flinches. “The reason why I was never able to just tell you I am deviant.” he says quietly. “Amanda.”

“Amanda?”

“She’s another AI program – my handler, I guess would be the best way to describe her. I reported back to her, and she advised me on the next course of action. I never knew how good of an eye she kept on me, so I tried to hide what I was.” He looks down at his hands, at the beer bottle there. “That was Cyberlife attempting to take over my programming.”

Horror trails along Hank’s spine like ice. “They were gonna make you shoot Markus.”

“And probably you as well.” His grip tightens on the bottle. “That would have cost them.”

Hank studies him for a moment. Part of him wants to ask what he would have done, if he had woken up and realized Cyberlife made him kill his partner. Probably the same thing he wants to do if he thinks about how Connor has existed for this long. Instead of asking, he simply leans a bit so his shoulder rests pressed against Connor’s. There’s a brief moment, then Connor returns the pressure, a small sigh escaping from him.

They sit together in silence for a few more minutes, just watching the soft snowfall, before Hank speaks again.

“Where do you go from here?”

“I have no idea.” Connor confesses. “I would like to retain my position with DPD, once I’m able.” He glances over at Hank. “If you still trust me – “

Hank’s answering snort cuts him off. “Your desk is still there, you idiot.” he says. “I don’t like switching out partners, so if you come back, you’re stuck with my cranky old ass.”

Connor chokes on a laugh. “Oh good. And here I thought you might pawn me off on Reed.”

“Damned tease.” Hank shifts just a little before standing. Connor looks up at him, confusion plain on his face. Hank grins. “I’m not letting my partner sleep in the snow. I’ll put some blankets out, and you can use the couch for as long as you want.”

There are a myriad of ways Connor could respond to that. Instead of saying any of them, he simply smiles.

“Thank you, Hank. For hearing me.”

Hank smiles back.

“You heard me, too, kid. Never forget it.”


End file.
